


Masquerade

by my_deer_friend



Series: My Deer Kinktober 2020 [13]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a thief, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Angst, Crossdressing, Deception, Disguise, First Time, John is a Prince, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27082402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_deer_friend/pseuds/my_deer_friend
Summary: Alex - a thief who's snuck into the royal palace dressed as a lady to steal the royal diadem - isn't expecting to bump into Prince John, looking unsettled, anxious and unhappy about his upcoming wedding.Hedefinitelyisn't expecting John to mistake him for his future bride.---(Prompt 12 - fingering, Lams)
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: My Deer Kinktober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947265
Comments: 30
Kudos: 59





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by a Tumblr anon!
> 
> (But I'm also dedicating it to you, Poli!)

The plan is simple. 

The king is holding a massive feast in honour of the betrothal of his second son, John - now his heir, after the recent and untimely passing of John’s older brother Harry - to a princess from a neighbouring kingdom. The union will give them enough clout to finally forge a long-term alliance. 

Problem is - this alliance would bring to a halt the peace talks that have almost been concluded with Alex’s kingdom, so they need to find a way to halt the proceedings long enough to get the agreement sealed and sworn. The solution proves to be obvious, if ridiculous. For complicated and hard-to-fathom cultural reasons, the wedding can’t take place without the royal diadem - so Alex needs to steal it.

The diadem is traditionally kept up in the prince’s personal suite on the night before the wedding. To get inside, Alex needs a disguise, but he’s too slight to pass for a soldier or a royal guard - so they decide on the next best thing. A creature beneath notice, whose motives would never be suspected, who could never be accused of anything devious or dark.

A woman.

Which is why Alex finds himself stepping out of a gaudy carriage wearing a wide, lush green silk gown, with a high collar to hide his Adam’s apple. Hercules has done an excellent job of fitting it to his slight frame and creating the suggestion of womanly curves without excessive padding. There’s a secret pocket in his skirt to stash the diadem and little hidden sheath in his bodice for a small blade - as a last resort. His face is absolutely smothered in make-up, and it’s all Alex can do to try to remember not to rub his eye or scratch at his cheek. 

Lafayette and Adrienne have schooled him in courtly manners, and as long as Alex can hold his tongue, he’s confident he can pass for some or other minor nobleman's daughter.

And he does. It’s almost stupidly easy to gain admittance to the palace and mingle into the crowd. Alex helps himself to food and wine and gossip - turns out, the princess hasn’t showed up yet and everyone is getting restless - and then slips through a door and down a darkened passageway and up the broad, marble stairs. Alex wonders why more women don’t use this social invisibility to their advantage - and almost immediately realises that they must do. Except, of course, that no one notices.

He tries a few doors before he finds the room he needs - noticeably larger and plusher than the other suites up here. And there it is: the diadem, on a little red velvet cushion, ripe for the stealing.

Is it really going to be this easy?

Alex doesn’t question his luck. He strides across the room - still a touch unsteady on the cramped, low heels he needs to wear for his disguise - and he’s little more than an arm’s length away when the door behind him crashes open and closes again just as quickly. 

Alex yelps and spins around, the ocean of green silk twirling with him.

There’s a young man standing there, scarcely older than him, with his back pressed against the door, looking flustered and red-cheeked - and staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“Who the hell are you?” he says.

Alex opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. Shit. He wasn’t expecting to be caught up here. His mind immediately goes to the little knife tucked against his ribs - but, no, he won't use it unless he absolutely has to. Before he can help himself, he throws a desperate glance behind him at the diadem - so, _so_ close.

The boy catches the target of his look, and some sort of realisation dawns on his face. 

“Oh. Shit!” Alex is about to kick off his shoes and try to make a run for it when the boy’s voice drops to a whisper and he says, “You’re _her!_ ”

Alex has no idea who he’s referring to, but he tries to mask his surprise and goes with it. If this boy wants to do all the work in inventing his cover, he’s not about to protest. He hesitates a second, then nods shyly.

“Shit, I’m being rude.” He stands up straighter, then gives a polite little bow. “Prince John, at your service. You’ve caused quite a stir by hiding up here instead of joining us down at the ball, Your Highness.”

Oh, damn…!

The blood rushes from Alex’s face as he realises - this is the crown prince. And for some reason, he thinks Alex is his betrothed.

It’s impossibly perfect cover, and it's not like Alex has a lot of other options. If he gets caught and his identity is revealed, he’s going straight to the gallows; impersonating a royal figure is going to be the very least of the charges against him. So he tries to do an elegant curtsey just like Adrienne taught him. He has no idea what sorts of things a princess would say, so he resolves to keep his mouth shut as much as possible while he thinks of a way to snatch the diadem, evade the prince and get out. 

Plus, he _is_ a little scared. This is Prince John, after all. The heir to the spoilt, cruel, backwards royal family that's intending to wipe out any chance of their fledgling peace. And if Alex creates any cause for suspicion, John’s big enough to take him down single-handedly - he's built like a fighter, with broad shoulders and strong legs.

But then again, John doesn’t seem particularly dangerous or evil. In fact, Alex notes as he studies him, he’s really just an ordinary, anxious-looking kid beneath the purple doublet and little gold crown. He feels a sudden, surprising pang of empathy.

“If I may ask,” John says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of spooking Alex, “Why are you hiding in my room?”

Alex shrugs and tries to look coy and uncertain, leaving John to read whatever he wants into the hesitation. 

John rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “Huh. Yeah, same here. It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?” He walks over to the sumptuous bed and sits down on it heavily. He pulls the gold coronet out from among his strands of golden hair and tosses it onto the coverlet beside him.

Then he sighs heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly.

Alex has no choice but to respond. He does his best to keep his voice soft and light. “For what?”

“Look, I know you were expecting to come here and marry my brother. You probably would have liked him, too - he was confident and kind, the sort of man who could really inspire people. But Harry’s dead, and now you’re stuck with me. And yeah, I get it, it must be a big disappointment.”

Alex doesn’t know what to say. He certainly wasn’t expecting this self-deprecating confession. He tries to shift his expression to one of sympathy.

“I’ve never had to think about any of this stuff, right?” John says petulantly. “Laws, manners, tradition, _marriage_... I was supposed to become a soldier. I’m good at that, you know? Making quick decisions in the moment, pushing myself to the limits, riding, fencing. _I_ wasn’t planning on this either. It’s not like I’ve spent my life chasing after girls and dreaming of--” His voice breaks for just a second. “I just don’t know what to do. I wasn’t ready to get married so soon. But - duty, right?” He swipes a hand over his face, then looks up at Alex with wide eyes. “Sorry! I’m rambling. Guess I’m just nervous.”

One part of Alex struggles to feel any sympathy for a boy whose biggest complaint in life is that his father has gone to the trouble of finding him a nice wife. But a bigger part of him can’t help but pity this boy, who’s just lost his brother and his future, feels trapped and lost, and whose eyes are deep wells of sadness. 

John sounds so dejected, so hopeless, that Alex feels a sudden urge to try to make him feel better. 

“You don’t seem so bad,” he says suddenly, surprising both of them. He manages to keep his tone high and soft enough to mask his gender, at least.

John frowns and shrugs down at the floor. “Sorry. I’m making a terrible first impression.”

“It just sounds like you’re under a lot of pressure.”

John huffs. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I was never meant to be king. That was Harry’s job. He’s the one who spent all his time with tutors and courtiers and so on, while I was out on the training grounds. My father could tell it was futile trying to chain me to a desk. But it means that now, I’m just totally unprepared.” 

“You’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t even know me,” John protests.

Alex fakes a flippant tone. “Call it women’s intuition.”

John looks up. “But, I mean, you’re in a difficult position too, right?”

Alex shrugs. “I always knew I’d get married off,” he improvises. “At least you’re not old and ugly.”

John blushes a little and smiles self-consciously. He must know, Alex thinks, that he’s gorgeous.

“So I guess you came here to see that thing?” John says, nodding towards the diadem. 

“Yes.” That’s not a lie.

“I guess Harry understood all this, but… Kinda silly, isn’t it? All these rituals and ceremonies?”

Alex grins genuinely. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Oh?” John looks up with a surprised smirk. “Do me a favour and _please_ let my father overhear you saying that. He has to put up with my snarky comments now I’m his heir, and at least I’ll be in a position to do something about the worst of these stupid old traditions when I take over.”

Alex crosses his arms. “So you’re not planning on just maintaining the status quo, then?”

“Oh. Um. Well.” John looks suddenly nervous. “I mean, a lot of the stuff we perpetuate is really old-fashioned and harmful. We could do with some reform.”

“Yes, we could,” Alex says.

“Being a soldier actually brings home the reality of war, you know? I think a lot more people should do it before they become rulers. Maybe then we’d work harder on building peace instead of just trying to knock each other around all the time.”

“Peace should always be the goal,” Alex says vehemently.

John’s eyes widen a little. “Okay. I’m glad you agree. Since you’ll be my wife and all.”

Alex is about to launch into a heated diatribe when he catches himself. He needs to stay on mission, and the longer he allows himself to continue this discussion, the more he risks revealing himself.

He racks his brain for a plan to get John out of the room long enough to grab the diadem and run. He needs to get John to leave without wanting to take Alex with him, so he can’t just suggest that he returns down to the feast. And Alex won’t need long, a few moments at most. He can’t create a diversion all on his own, and in his role as a foreign princess, he can’t use any of the knowledge he has about the events downstairs or other happenings in the palace.

So, what does he know about John that he can use? He’s confused and insecure, but willful underneath it, clearly unhappy, trying to live up to the expectations thrust on him. The way he talks, it’s like he’s rarely heard any kind or affirming words. Now, in a way, he is Alex’s sworn enemy, but perhaps a little human connection is what he needs to get him out of this situation.

And the way John is looking at him - curious, suddenly, and a little shy - is giving him an idea.

Alex steps closer tentatively.

“Tomorrow - the wedding - it’s going to be really stressful.” He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, aiming for unintentionally seductive. “Perhaps it would help both of us if we got to know each other a little better tonight?”

It’s a real risk, getting this close, because for all of his dress-up Alex is still a boy underneath it all. But it’s fairly dark in here, and John seems to be absorbed enough in what’s happening in his head not to be suspicious of the illusion; it’s amazing what the mind can choose to ignore.

But if he can get John tangled up in lust, and then dirtied or rumpled enough that he needs to slip away to a washroom, it might give him the window he needs.

John watches him approach with open hesitation.

Alex comes to stand in front of him, and puts his hand tentatively on John’s shoulder. “You’re stressed and anxious. I understand that; everything’s happening so fast. But maybe I can try to help you relax?”

“If you’re suggesting…” He trails off, blushing furiously.

“John,” Alex says firmly, rolling his eyes a little but trying to hide it. He’s never known a young man being so hesitant about a chance for some sexual contact. But then again, he’s never met a prince before - maybe the rules are different? “We’re getting married tomorrow, right? What’s the harm?”

“I’m just-- I never--”

“If you’re nervous about it now,” Alex reasons, “It’s just going to be ten times worse tomorrow. At least this way, you’ll have some idea what to expect.”

Alex realises this is a cruel thing to say, given that this is going to be nothing like the experience John is going to have with his real bride. But John doesn’t need to - and can’t - know that.

After another long moment of hesitation, John reaches his arm up and covers Alex’s hand with his own. A little shiver at the warm contact runs up Alex’s arm.

“I’ve never really paid attention to girls before,” John confesses. “But you intrigue me. You’re unlike any lady I’ve met. You seem so self-assured.” Then John blushes, but he keeps his eyes up. “And you’re - well, breathtaking.”

He pulls Alex’s hand off his shoulder and up to his lips, then kisses the back of it gently. Alex flushes hot and red.

“My lady,” John says, with just a note of humour, “Have I managed to embarrass you?” He kisses Alex’s hand again. “Such a pretty maid must be used to suitors falling over themselves at her feet.”

Alex turns his face away coyly.

“I’ll admit I was pretty terrified before, but, now that I’ve met you, perhaps this wedding won’t be so awful after all.”

The little note of cautious hope in John’s voice makes Alex cringe. He knows he doesn’t have any other choice, but leading him on like this just feels cruel. He fervently wishes the real princess is going to live up to this poor boy.

John sees the look of distress on his face and misreads it. “Oh, sorry! Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Alex can’t think of anything to say, but he needs to stay John on this trajectory, so he lifts their clasped hands up to his face, then places a kiss of his own on the back of John’s hand. His lipstick leaves a faint red mark.

He flicks his eyes up to John’s suggestively, and sees John’s darken in response. 

John’s free hand reaches out and gingerly touches the silk at his waist. A tremor goes though Alex. Despite the anxiety of the situation, he is responding to this careful, almost reverent touch. He just needs to make sure John doesn’t pick up the exact nature of his arousal.

He steps in closer, lets John’s hand go - it moves instantly to his other waist - and leans down slowly. He puts his hands on John’s face and tilts his chin up, then hovers his lips just an inch away from John’s.

“I’ve never kissed a prince before,” he says softly, aiming for a mix of humour and anticipation.

“I’ve never kissed a _girl_ before,” John responds, a little awed.

Goodness, how sheltered must he have been, Alex wonders as he closes the final distance and presses their lips together softly. He can’t help to feel a curious swell of delight that he is the prince’s first kiss. 

But John doesn’t seem unpracticed. He moves his mouth against Alex’s tenderly, then draws in a breath and tugs him a little closer as he parts his lips. Alex reciprocates, bringing one hand around to the back of John’s head and tangling it in the soft, perfumed golden hair. He feels John’s tongue nudge forward experimentally, and presses himself further forward to encourage him. John hums and then dives in. 

Their kiss immediately turns heated. John’s hands tug Alex closer between his spread legs, and one slides down dangerously over his padded hip and around to his ass before Alex can put a stop to it. Lucky, John doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary - but he will if Alex is pulled any closer against his stomach, because his cock is responding eagerly to all of this attention. Thank god that there are enough folds and tassels to hide any obvious bulges.

Before John can pull him in further, he pulls back from the kiss. John’s eyes open and dig into his, hot and eager. His mouth is smeared with red from Alex’s lipstick, but that just makes his lips look fuller and more delicious.

“You lied to me, your highness,” Alex teases.

John tilts his head questioningly.

“You said you’d never kissed anyone before.”

John immediately goes a little pale. “Um. Shit.” He cringes. “I didn’t lie; I just said no girls.”

Oh. Oh!

Alex tries to mask his astonishment and pity - because now it makes a lot more sense why John seems so anxious and despondent, and why he’s responded to Alex so positively - but some of it must leak through.

John frowns. “Sorry. It’s kind of an open secret here. Didn’t realise you hadn’t heard.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Alex rushes to reassure him. “That’s not uncommon where I’m from.” He has no idea if this is true of not, but the reassurance seems to help. “But then - why is your family forcing you to marry he-- me?”

John shrugs ruefully. “It’s my duty. They didn’t force me. I offered.”

“Why?” Alex asks again. He can’t fathom why John would put himself through a lifetime of unhappiness just for that.

“I thought you’d understand,” he says a little sadly. “If I don’t marry you, I can’t be king after my father. You’ll get shunted down the line to my next oldest brother, and he’s-- Let’s just say he would not make a good husband _or_ a good ruler. I’m doing it for everyone’s sake.”

“Except your own,” Alex says softly.

“Well, yeah. But,” John brightens a little, “It doesn’t feel like I made the wrong decision now that I’ve met you.”

Alex feels a sharp pang in his chest. He is going to break John’s heart.

It can’t be helped. He still has a mission to pull off. He puts the seductive smile back on his face. “Shall we continue to get better acquainted?”

John grins, then shifts back so that he is fully on the bed. He reaches a hand out.

Alex takes it and climbs up after him, settling across John’s thighs and making sure that enough of his skirting is bunched up between them that he won’t reveal his erection.

They kiss again, over and over, deep and long, stoking each others’ fires. John keeps trying to tug him closer, kissing his jaw and his cheek and his shoulder, and then one hand leaves his waist and reappears under his dress, just above his knee.

Shit. He can’t let John feel under his skirts, because then the feminine illusion that he has somehow miraculously maintained will dissolve in a second. So he bites his lip and catches the hand that is snaking up his thigh.

“I shouldn’t,” he whispers. “Not until, uh, tomorrow.”

John kisses the curve his shoulder again. “God, you’re right, but-- I just want--”

“Let me take care of you,” Alex murmurs.

“What do you--?”

But Alex cuts him off by putting his hand on John’s groin. John groans into the side of his neck and shifts closer. His hands start wandering again, as if of their own volition, along Alex’s waist and down his back. 

Alex pushes against John’s shoulder with his free hand, and John gets the hint and falls back onto the bed. Alex bunches up his mass of rustling skirts and shifts his legs so that he is settled between John’s spread thighs, pushing them open.

John reaches up and pulls him forward and down into another kiss. This one is blistering, and Alex feels John parting his lips and nudging his tongue forward. He reciprocates; his makeup is going to be a mess either way, so he might as well enjoy this.

Driven now by arousal as well as haste, Alex reaches down and unlaces John’s pants. He tugs them down past his knees and off one leg, revealing John’s flushed cock and strong thighs. It’s a gorgeous sight, and Alex sacrifices a moment to take it all in. For the umpteenth time, he thanks his lucky stars for the billowing mass of silk, because it prevents John from seeing or feeling just how painfully hard Alex is too.

John mistakes his momentary pause. “Oh, please, you don’t have to do anything,” he says quickly, turning pink with embarrassment. “I know you must be, you know, ah-- unfamiliar with all this.”

Alex meets his eyes and smiles. “It’s okay. I know what to do with my hands.”

“Are you sure?” John asks and reaches up to run the backs of his fingers along Alex’s burning cheek.

Instead of answering, Alex holds the eye contact and reaches down to wrap his hand around John’s length. His smile widens when John groans indulgently and lets his arm flop back down.

This poor kid, Alex thinks. He’s going to get married to some tame or stuffy princess, and he might never get the chance to experience the sort of love-making he really desires - strong arms around him, a rough beard against his neck, a cock nudging his thigh. But Alex can give him one little gift, at least - something John might not have known to try, and something that will sweeten the memory of what is otherwise going to become a terrible night for him as soon as Alex makes off with the diadem. 

“Do you trust me?” Alex whispers.

John nods, earnest and wordless.

“This might feel strange at first, but I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

At a loss for any other form of lubrication, Alex lifts two fingers to his mouth, slides them past his lips and runs his tongue over them, coating them with saliva.

John stares at his mouth, eyes brimming with lust. “Fuck…” he groans.

Alex smiles around his fingers, then pulls them out. “Try to relax.”

He puts one steadying hand on John’s hip and reaches his hand down between John’s legs, to the crease of his buttocks. He slides one finger between the cheeks until he finds John’s opening, and presses gently against it.

Immediately John flinches and tenses up. “What are you--”

“ _Relax,_ ” Alex insists, sliding his other hand down to John’s thigh, rubbing soothingly at the steely muscles.

John grimaces. “I’ll try.” 

Alex feels the thigh unclench a little, but he keeps up the steady caress. With the finger of his other hand, he presses down gently again, and before John can squirm again, he nudges it past the rim and gently inside. John makes a surprised, uncomfortable grunt; he is incredibly tight, so Alex slides the finger in and out a good few times before he adds the second. John’s eyes clench shut and he cringes. Alex stills the fingers and kneads at the trembling thigh again, trying to ground John, get him relaxed enough so that his own tension won’t spoil his pleasure. 

When he finally gentles John sufficiently, Alex finds that special little spot just inside and curls his finger against it. 

John’s eyes shoot open and he lets out a surprised, involuntary gasp.

Alex does it again. John groans lewdly.

Then Alex shifts his other hand back to the prince’s cock, and John melts apart.

The nervous tension leaks out of him in an instant, replaced by a needy trembling. His thighs fall open more widely, so Alex ramps up the pressure inside him, moving his fingers in firm circles. John’s head falls back and his spine arches up, and his breathing quickly changes from short, sharp breaths to longer and headier sighs. Soon enough, his hips are thrusting back and forth, shifting him between the twin pleasures of Alex’s nimble hands

Alex smiles indulgently and allows himself to enjoy this for just a moment. It’s not often he gets to have such a pretty boy falling to pieces under his fingers - and certainly not one with such a pedigree. For the first time since he got here, John hasn’t been wary and anxious and - shit - he looks even better in the throes of delirious passion.

It’s not long before he is groaning urgently and pleading under his breath, and Alex speeds up both sources of stimulation. Another moment and John is crying out, then shuddering and gasping as he comes in spurts onto the pretty velvet doublet covering his stomach.

Alex gives him a moment to catch his breath before he withdraws his hands and wipes them on the coverlet. John sits up, looking blissful and starry-eyed. He reaches for Alex’s waist again.

“Please,” he murmurs, “I’d like to…”

“No,” Alex says, firmly but kindly. “Tomorrow.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm. Okay.” John grabs him with both arms and pulls him to lie down beside him, then tucks Alex against his side firmly. 

“You should clean up,” Alex suggests, since all of this was just intended to get John out of the room, after all.

“In a moment,” John hums. “You know what’s crazy?”

Alex makes a questioning noise.

“I was dreading all this - tomorrow, you, the future. But I’m not afraid anymore.” He turns and looks into Alex’s eyes. “Knowing I’ll be marrying you makes it all seem okay.”

Alex’s heart clenches painfully again. To think that John is smitten… he must have been feeling very lonely for this meagre comfort to have resonated with him so strongly. Alex feels a confusing flood of compassion and guilt at the impending betrayal his disappearance will cause.

Unable to read any of these dark thoughts, John smiles at him, tender and happy - that edge of sadness seems to have melted out of his eyes. He puts his hand on the side of Alex’s face and runs a gentle thumb over his cheekbone.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, and Alex looks down and blushes. Mostly it’s shame colouring his cheeks, but he can’t deny he enjoys the compliment too. “I think I know what would make this even better.”

John sits up and wipes at the stain on his stomach with a corner of the coverlet, slides his pants back on again and gets up from the bed. He walks across to the little velvet cushion, lifts up the diadem and brings it back to where Alex is now sitting up. He climbs back onto the bed and places it gently on Alex’s auburn curls. 

“There,” John says, with another reverential smile. “Perfect.”

Alex tries to look shy and grateful, but he’s a mess of emotions. This is exactly what he needs - he’s been handed his prize on a silver platter. But he feels a desperately sad pang. The way John is looking at him - hopeful, excited, adoring… 

John gazes at him like that for a moment longer, then shifts away reluctantly. 

“I’ve been gone for too long. I’m going to wash up quickly and then head back down. You think you’ll feel up to joining us now? I know everybody would be delighted to meet you.”

Alex smiles back, but he feels his lip tremble a little. “Yes. You go get clean, and I’ll be waiting here for you.”

“It’s funny,” John says with a self-conscious smile, “I’ve known you for, what, less than an hour? And we’re going to have our whole lives to spend together, but… I don’t want to let you out of my sight for even a moment.”

The words catch in his throat, so Alex puts a gentle hand on John’s cheek, and leans in to give him a soft, sweet kiss. “I’ll see you very soon.”

John chuckles ruefully. “Yes, I know. I’m being silly.”

“Now go!” Alex urges, in part because he feels a surprising prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes and he can't bear seeing John's happy face any longer.

John laughs and heads towards the washroom. “You’re already bossing me around,” he teases.

Alex can’t risk speaking again, so he forces out a laugh.

As soon as John vanishes behind the closed door, Alex shuffles off the bed and takes the diadem off his head, stowing it in a secret pocket in the folds of his skirt. He hesitates for only a second, then pulls out the bright green ribbon holding his hair up and drops it onto the bed. An apology.

He faces no resistance leaving the palace, and slips out of the palace gates and to the horse tethered in a secret spot awaiting his escape. The skirts are hampering him now, so he slashes them away with the little knife and jumps up into the saddle. 

As the palace recedes behind him and he can finally breathe easier again, he allows himself to feel the sorrow he’s been pushing back. The wind in his face dries his tears, but they flow for a long time as he thinks of John’s deep, sad eyes and how - for just a moment - they were simply bright and happy.

But Alex had a job to do, and he couldn’t sacrifice the greater good just to preserve one boy’s feelings.

Duty, he thinks. It’s a fickle thing.


End file.
